


Kiss me, beneath the milky twilight

by Vracs



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Post Apocalypse, Romance, Soft Girlfriends, all the feels for these two, cordelia doubts her abilities as a Supreme, so misty fills her with all the love she deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-06 14:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17941337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vracs/pseuds/Vracs
Summary: Misty takes Cordelia to the bayou to help her unwind from her mounting responsibilities at the Academy.





	Kiss me, beneath the milky twilight

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Kiss Me' by Sixpence None The Richer

_Kiss me beneath the milky twilight_  
_Lead me out on the moonlit floor_

 

Misty gently pushes Cordelia ahead, giddy and excited to show her the magic of the bayou.

She spins on her heels.

The midnight breeze whistles as it combs right past the blades of grass at their bare ankles. She can't remember the last time she got to enjoy her home, free from the looming apocalypse, the fog, the deathly quiet. Now she basks in the blossoming life around her, finally able to enjoy the familiar soft hum of fireflies as they dance across the moonlit pond. She tugs Cordelia towards the molten silver and points out the lilipads where the flickering insects gather.

"Look."

The dozens of glowing lights remind Cordelia of gold dust, rising like a storm into the dark canopy of the trees overhead. She lifts her head. She doesn't realise she's laughing until Misty pulls her closer at the waist and knocks all the breath out of her. Her blue irises glint in the summer heat. Cordelia thinks for a moment that she might like to dive right into them and not come up for air. She lets her gaze fall to Misty's mouth which splits into a grin, eyes crinkling at the edges knowingly, as if to say, _look at my beautiful kingdom, there ain't nothin' like it!_

Misty doesn't tell her this though, only winks and proceeds to weave them past the pond's edge. The fringe of her shawl scrapes the swamp floor in time with her light footsteps - Cordelia doesn't think she's ever seen her so happy, so alive. She watches Misty spin in a circle twice, arms spread to welcome the wind before she falls back in step by Cordelia's side.

In that moment, and for the first time in a long time, Cordelia feels at peace. Not once has she thought about the Academy, of a single deadline, too taken by the colors and sounds of Misty's paradise and now, hers too.

"Come on darlin'," Misty's fingers wrap firm around her wrists to guide her - a creature of the city - and help her through sticky mud traps and low-lying branches that reach for them like hands. Misty only brushes past, touches a passing palm to old tree trunks like friends, squeezes Cordelia's hand tighter to help her over boulders hidden in the grass.

She tells Cordelia about the birds she's seen here, their oranges and blues she promises to show Cordelia some time in daylight. She tells her of the water and the canoe she keeps propped at the back of her shack - _maybe I'll take ya rowin'_ \- and in the same sentence, her crocodiles, and Cordelia's face must fall because Misty cackles then, giving her a soft  _kiddin'_ and a softer look.

Cordelia spots, as if summoned, a sleeping alligator tucked in the corner of the water just beyond Misty's shoulder. Her entire body stiffens. She watches its slick, patchwork skin rise and fall with each breath, tail submerged beneath the thick moss.

Misty senses her hesitation and puts herself between her and the reptile, stepping into her space.

"S'alright - ain't nothin' gon' harm you here," she smiles. The wind shifts and breathes courage into her, so she reaches a cool hand to Cordelia's face to thumb the high apple of her cheek. Cordelia's heart already pounds and the touch makes her entire body vibrate. She lets out a soft, nervous sigh.

Yes, there is transmutation - in the blink of an eye, they could be back in the safety of Misty's shack or even the Academy, though the thought of going back to the latter sends a pang of sadness through Cordelia's chest.

She leans into Misty's hand; lets her eyes flutter shut. She feels Misty carefully manoeuver them a few steps back until they're hidden beneath a willow and jagged bark presses between Cordelia's shoulders. When she opens her eyes, she sees only Misty's face, her wild hair glowing gold in the backdrop of green.

"I never imagined how beautiful things could be here. I wish I could call this place my own," Cordelia whispers.

Misty surges with delight. She drops her hand to Cordelia's, fingers winding together. She wants nothing more than to take Cordelia in her arms; wishes she could sweep them both up into the air and fly them through the bayou - because Cordelia hasn't seen the half of it - past the estuaries and capillaries leading out into the ocean and back again into the safety of Misty's home, never to let her leave. She lifts Cordelia's hand to her mouth, quickly checking her face before brushing a light kiss between her knuckles.

"It _is_ yours, darlin'," she says kindly, nodding her head towards the willow's whispy fringes and beyond, "Whenever you're feelin' up for it, you're welcome to come here, sugar. What's yours is mine."

The words weigh heavy with meaning inside Cordelia's chest. The silence between them simmers.

Misty is hyperaware of the rustle in the leaves, the sound of Cordelia's quick breaths. Her own cheeks burn. She's grateful for the night that hides them. She runs a shaky hand through her tangled hair and gives a lop-sided smile, eyeing the chill on Cordelia's skin.

"It's gettin' late - 'n cold," she laughs, "you're shakin' like a leaf."

Cordelia glances down at her trembling self. She nods quietly, apologetic, "I'm fine. We can stay a little longer if you want to."

Misty knows Cordelia's tired. She sees how hard she works, rising at the crack of dawn and often last to bed, the hours in between spent pouring over essays and lesson plans and student applications. The circles under her eyes have darkened and Misty feels guilty with every passing day, because no matter how many times she offers to help, or gives Cordelia worried smiles, or touches her in passing, Cordelia remains buried in her responsibilities, the weight of them heavy on her buckling shoulders.

Misty had hardly believed when Cordelia agreed to a day out away from the Academy. She'd given a shy smile, and told Misty, in the humid heat of their greenhouse to,  _take me away, just for a little while._ The tenderness in her voice had almost been Misty's undoing and she'd practically fallen over herself to make sure all duties were cleared in time for their outing.

They'd spent the better half of the evening exploring the ins and outs of the marshland, its sweet, secret flowers, the joyous life streaming through shadowy cracks; Cordelia's eyes wide and curious and hungry for more. It had left her with a brimming appreciation for the country life, but also with muddy feet and a chill. Misty thinks it's about pride, is sure Cordelia wants to prove she can be the one to navigate their way back to the shack. She gives a sympathetic smile, laces their fingers and transmutates them to the wicker swing on her illuminated porch.

Cordelia doesn't have time to protest because Misty's wrapping a soft blanket around her and telling her to scoot so they can sit together.

"I could've walked us back, you know - I _am_ capable of finding the way."

The soft downward turn of Cordelia's mouth upsets Misty. "I know that." What she wants to say is, _But you do everythin', for everyone; please let me take some of the load - you need to rest._ She watches Cordelia nuzzle her chin into the scratchy yarn and hum in content. "I don't doubt it for a second," she adds for good measure, settling into the comfortable silence between them. She doesn't realise she's staring until Cordelia points it out.

"What is it?"

"Nothin'," Misty smooths hair out of her eyes, "I'm gon' fix us up some tea. Sit tight."

Cordelia moves to help but Misty only shakes her head and tells her to enjoy the midnight sky while she potters around in the kitchen _._ So, obediently, Cordelia leans back in her seat and watches the whispy, purple clouds fleet across the moon and shroud the ground in shadows. She inhales deeply. It's the first time she's gone without a headache. Her head butts the back of her seat gently and she settles into her sleepy cocoon. She pictures herself spending quiet weekends here, tending to blooming plantlife together in the sun as it filters through Misty's hair and onto her pale, alabaster skin. She pictures waking up to the sound of Fleetwood Mac booming through Misty's speakers and the blue sky hovering over her through Misty's window.

She's nudged out of her daydream by mugs clinking together. She flushes with embarrassment, taking the drink sheepishly.

The smell of cinnamon and berry wafts up towards her in thick swirls.

"Mmh. Lipton's?"

Misty grins, "What else?"

Cordelia takes a bittersweet sip. She doesn't expect the sting of tears and the emotion that follows, wedging in the back of her throat no matter how many times she swallows.

" _Hey._ " Misty places her own mug at her feet, her slender hand settling at Cordelia's shoulder and squeezing firmly. She places her other arm around Cordelia and pulls her in. "What's goin' on?"

Memories of Michael flash in her mind's eye. If she tries hard enough, she can smell the wreak of death on him, feel her failures cling heavy to her heart like a fog, filling her from the inside out until there's no room for air, until she can't feel anything at all. She counts her mistakes, the disappointments that bind the Coven, the disappointment her mother would have felt were she still here. She remembers Misty tending to her in her moments of weakness, and Myrtle - her soft voice and maternal touch that Cordelia misses with every fibre of her being, come rain or shine.

When she tries to speak, her tears finally fall, down both cheeks and onto her blanketed knees. She pulls them up and tucks them under her chin. There it is again - _weakness_.

But Misty doesn't let her wallow for long. Her worried eyes seek out Cordelia's in the stark light, a careful thumb smoothing out her trembling chin and using it to lift her face gently.

"Look at me."

Cordelia does so, shaking her head as she crumples into a sob. Misty's there before she can let out a cry, pivoting her until her legs slide from under her and her face is buried into the side of Misty's neck. Misty holds her firm, rocking the swing and whispering hushed tones against her ear in the hopes of soothing her. Cordelia's hands clench around Misty's back, bunching the material of her dress for comfort.

"Delia - Delia, remember what Myrtle said."

Sweet Myrtle. Just the sound of her name makes Cordelia cry harder, silently, but Misty feels the full impact of her sorrow in the bouncing of her ribcage, and tightens her embrace. Slow fingers move through her hair, down to the tips that hang between her shoulderblades. They run patterns over her back.

Misty hopes it might breathe magic into Cordelia, a little life, a little more than Misty's been able to give. She channels all the happiness inside herself and through herself, happiness that Cordelia brought to her with her bright smile and doe eyes; and strength, that had grown each day with Cordelia by her side, that Cordelia had helped her summon in the days upon her return and worse, the nights. After long minutes, Cordelia's whole body slumps, residual aftershocks popping up like bubbles until Cordelia's pulling away and wiping at her face.

"Here, let me," Misty pouts at her, cradling Cordelia's face much like Cordelia had often done to her. She notes the flush at the tip of Cordelia's nose, her nude eyes cast to the side and away from Misty's own. "Look at me, please," she mouths.

Cordelia refocuses her gaze, wet lips pursed together.

"Talk to me. I'm right here. I'm listenin'."

It's Misty's sorrowful look that gets Cordelia to open up, because God help her if she'll be the one to cause Misty any pain.

"I can't help thinking that - Constantly, I feel -" she sighs, the lines around her mouth tightening as her chin begins to tremble again. She focuses on Misty's patient eyes, the clear blue of them, looking at her with so much understanding. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to lead any more. I'm not what the Coven needs - it became very clear to me with Michael. The way he would look at me, with _pity_ and with knowing - I've never felt so helpless before. He _knew_. He understood me so completely, understood my inadequacies so deeply that there was nowhere left to hide. And ultimately, he _proved_ it all, everything I had ever feared - " her voice cracks, "everything my mother had ever said, was true. She was right."

The words splinter right through Misty's chest and she gasps at the instant ache it alights. She squeezes Cordelia's hand and clasps it between her palms.

"That ain't true."

Cordelia chuckles hollowly.

"What could you have done different?"

Nothing. The fact that Cordelia would have done it identically all over again given the chance, fills her with despair. Fiona always told her idiocy was born of repetition. She shakes her head in defeat.

"Exactly. There ain't nothin' you could've changed. Delia," Misty catches a stray tear hanging from Cordelia's jaw and wipes it on the blanket, "I reckon you ain't got the first clue 'bout how much that Coven adores you. I look at Mallory, 'n she worships the ground you walk on. Zoe loves you more than her mama. I hear the younger girls talkin' all the time, 'bout how much they look forward to your lessons, that you're the one they look for when they're hurtin' or lonely. You are the Supreme and you deserve it more than anyone else. You fill this Coven with patience, 'n kindness, 'n _love_. Somethin' your mother never did."

Misty runs her fingertips over the inside of Cordelia's palm, coaxing a broken smile from her.

"That doesn't change all the things I couldn't do. I've left a trail of failures behind me everywhere I go, more than I can count. It's only a matter of time before the girls realise their beloved Supreme has no idea what she's doing. I'm no leader - I'm not strong enough, not brave enough, not -"

"Smart enough?" Misty tries, "Or cunnin'? Or devoted?"

"I'm forgetting who I'm supposed to be."

"All of those things. You're all of 'em. I swear it. You've created a family out of an Academy and that ain't somethin' to take lightly." She wishes Cordelia had the power of second sight so they could touch and Cordelia could open Misty's pages and thumb her way right through them. "The thing about you, Delia," Misty feels Cordelia lace their fingers together, giving her the courage to make her feelings clear, "is that you wear your vulnerability on your sleeve. That ain't weakness. It takes somebody very brave to be as open as you. And I see it every time I look at you, and if that ain't my favorite thing 'bout you..."

Cordelia gives a sniffle.

"Misty -"

"It's the dang truth. You ain't afraid of lettin' other people shine. And you're amazin', you got to know that. I'm just sorry I ain't been showin' you often enough."

But that's not it at all, because with Misty, Cordelia feels like her best self, free of doubt and bitterness, ready to take on whatever curveball life throws at her. She feels the skin of her cheeks tighten with dried tears as she manages a smile.

"You show me all the time."

Misty stares at her with a deep frown. _Then why don't you know it?_ She leans into Cordelia and tucks hair behind her ear. "You know how I feel 'bout you."

The gentle way Misty touches her leaves Cordelia sore with emotion brimming to fullness. She knows, as certainly as her own name, that Misty would never dream of hurting or betraying her. Misty only nurtures her, like her many plants, and feeds her with positivity and belief. She tilts to press her forehead against Misty's. The blanket around her tightens under Misty's caring hands. When she opens her eyes, Misty's face saturates her vision.

She lets out a shaky breath. A couple of inches more and it could all go up in self-destructive flames. And what a wonderful way to burn.

She closes the distance between them, parting her lips a breath before they meet Misty's, trembling against the press of her own. When they connect, Misty falls into her like she'd been dying to, moving her hands over Cordelia's blanketed form and gently over the back of her head. The soft pop of their lips severing leads into another kiss and their noses bump as they change position.

Misty can feel the pulsing rush of blood in her ears each time Cordelia's mouth moves. The panicked feeling inside her settles into a pleasurable thrum but her mind races to latch onto the next move. _Should she keep her mouth closed?_ Respectfully, she does.  _What should she do with her hands?_ They coil into Cordelia's soft hair, fingertips tickling the nape of a slender neck and Cordelia responds in kind by letting out a low hum of approval.  _Should she also be making noise?_ At the thought, heat settles in her belly and she pulls away, letting out a shrill giggle.

Cordelia breaks into her first, wholehearted smile.

"'m sorry."

"I'm not," Cordelia whispers. The realisation that she's in fact, not sorry at all, fills her with momentary dread. Misty may be her equal in life and now also in the classroom, but Cordelia can't help worry that somehow she's taken advantage of something Misty wasn't ready to give.

"I meant - I ain't sorry for kissin' you. I didn't want to assume..."

"You didn't do anything wrong. It was entirely me," she says reassuringly, opening up the blanket for Misty to slide closer. The billowy movement of Misty's body into her own is a form of admission and Cordelia rests her head on Misty's shoulder so they can both look out onto the vast expanse of the bayou.

"Delia?"

Cordelia squeezes her hand.

"Y'know, don't you?"

"Hmm?"

"That I'm crazy 'bout you."

The words are so casual, so sturdy that Cordelia has to lift her head to check the pale, glowing profile of Misty's moonlit face. Misty doesn't look at her, only dimples her cheeks and looks up to the sky.

"I don't think I've ever been so sure of anythin' in my life."

Cordelia nuzzles further into Misty's side. The warm strength of her body makes Cordelia feel safe. If she leans far enough, she can hear the firing squad inside Misty's ribcage, the deep breaths Misty takes to calm herself. She runs an open palm over Misty's forearm and settles her fingers onto the opal ring on Misty's index finger. She presses a thumb against it, then clasps Misty's clammy hand in her own.

"Yes. I know. I've always known." Her tongue curls inside her mouth in the shape of words she doesn't voice, not yet - _Me too._

Misty laughs sweetly, dropping a kiss to the crown of Cordelia's head. "That means I'm doin' somethin' right." Cordelia's floral scent fills her lungs and makes her shiver, more so when Cordelia turns and kisses her bare collar bone.

Their feet brush together, pushing off the floor in synchronised rhythm beneath the swing. With each gentle motion, it sends quiet creaks into the stillness of the night.

 


End file.
